Beautiful Again
by chickenwriter
Summary: Merry Christmas Jeanett! I Luff You!


Beautiful Again

She was ten years old when her dad was injured in a mining accident. Forced to leave the only source of income that the Gerard family had, he began to drink excessively. With the love for drinking came the anger and the abuse. However, the abuse was not physical, and was never aimed toward Clarisse. But watching her mother wither away and tear apart at the seams was just as bad. She would never know when her dad would go off, but the space behind the couch in their two room apartment became her only refuge. There she would hide, hearing her father scream relentlessly at her mother. Twice she had tried to stop him from leaving, but her ten-year-old guilt-trip was simply not enough, and the day she turned eleven, he finally left.

The love she felt for her mother masked the pain she felt inside. She would help Mrs. Gerard to cook and clean, because Marie was simply too tired to care for Clarisse herself. She had lost the will to live. One day had been the final straw, and the authorities sent Clarisse to her aunt Susan's house in a country much different from the England she had always known.

Aunt Susan was a lifetime resident of Pyrus, Genovia. The country was considerably warmer, with a love for pears that no other country in the world could understand. The only thing that Clarisse understood, was how much she hated it here. She hated the French influence, she hated the Spanish flair and she hated the people she met. She missed the rainy days in London with her best friend Catharine. She missed the sprawling countryside and the rivers and lakes. She even missed the cold days when she would bundle up from head to toe and run off to school. Aunt Susan and Uncle William welcomed her into their ten, now eleven, child home with open arms. Though impoverished, they had plenty of love to give and plenty of room in the house. The only thing wrong was that she was always put last. The oldest would be first for everything, followed by the youngest, then eight other children before Clarisse. She was last at the table, last to leave, last to get school clothes, last for homework help and last tucked in at bedtime. Having been an only child for eleven years, this simply would not do.

So the day after she turned sixteen, she enrolled herself in St. Christopher's School of Etiquette. That year, she became a lady. A lady with a lot of debt on her hands, but a lady nonetheless. At seventeen, she had no clue what she wanted to become, perhaps a nurse, or a schoolteacher. Maybe a housewife or society woman. Never in her wildest fantasies had she saw herself . . . as queen.

By seventeen she had gotten used to this country, and had mostly put England behind her. With her new, sophisticated way of life, her cousins had nothing to hang over her head. She was highly educated, much nicer and more civilized then any of her younger (or older) cousins. Then, suddenly, the country went out of control. A major depression fell over Genovia. Genovia was under rule of King Rupert I, who tried very hard to get it back in line. But Aunt Susan and Uncle William were forced to make major budget cuts, and one of those cuts included two people leaving the house, Patricia (who had just turned eighteen) and Clarisse. With the best of luck wished upon her, Clarisse left the house to go nowhere. She would have to take the little currency she had in her pocket, and find an apartment to rent.

On the twelfth of December, she found a home in the heart of the city advertising for a nanny. With her experience with children, she knew she could handle the job with ease and grace.

She lived with the family for a week.

As she strolled the streets in Pyrus, she held her head up, hoping to catch an eye. She walked quickly, never moving her head from the upright position she held it in. The problem was that she couldn't see around corners very well, and bumped into a man wearing much too formal attire for the rainy day it was.

"Oh, I'm very sorry." She said softly. Her refined accent had shocked the man. He didn't meet too many people with hand-me-down clothing and an accent as beautiful as hers.

"No need to apologize, miss. The fault was mine entirely." He swept her hand up in his, and kissed it lightly.

"No, I assure you. It was not. But thank you for taking the blame, it was very regal of you, kind sir." She smiled gracefully, meaning to continue on her way, but he grabbed her hand again.

"Would you like to accompany me to dinner? I am heading there as we speak."

"I would love to, but you don't even know my name."

"Forgive me, I am Rupert Renaldi"

"Oh my goodness!" Immediately she curtsied low to the ground, her coat sweeping the sidewalk and gaining a rim of wetness around the bottom. "I did not recognize you, Prince Rupert." He chuckled.

"Please, I like to be called Rupert."

"Yes, of course. I am Clarisse Gerard."

"And where do you live, beautiful Clarisse Gerard?" The comment made her blush furiously.

"As of now?" She paused and looked away. "Nowhere."

"Nowhere?" He waited for her nod and continued. "That's preposterous!" Rupert gripped her hand tightly and led her along. She willingly followed and listened to him speak. "You must come to the castle and stay with us. We are short on staff and I am sure we could find such a lovely girl a position!"

"Oh, I couldn't really! Work for the king?" She fell into a similar pace of the man holding her hand.

"Yes of course you can. But only after you come with me to the Pyrus Inn." The Pyrus Inn was the most expensive restaurant in Genovia. Reservations were booked weeks in advanced for the small dining area, and months in advanced for the banquet rooms in the back. They would be in the small dining area, and Clarisse couldn't contain her excitement. Here she was, a week after being kicked out of her home, on an impromptu date with the crown prince of Genovia. If only her cousins could see her now.

The dinner went far too quickly in Clarisse's mind. Although she had been face to face with the prince of her country, all she could think about were how many security guards it took for a man to have dinner! There were at least six, three on each side, and she had to wonder if there were more outside. They were really starting to bother her by the end of the night.

"That's one thing I would _never_ get used to!" She exclaimed. Rupert only laughed.

"I'm watch 24/7, and I'm used to it."

"But you have grown up with it! No one every watched me."

"So that is why you are such a private person, you hardly told me about yourself at dinner, I am eager to learn more as we walk back to the palace." It was cold, and Clarisse wanted so desperately to take the limo. But if they were to walk, they could have as much privacy as possible, and they could talk without worrying about being overheard. So Rupert had made the decision, and took mearly two guards. One before them and one behind.

He held her hand tightly, not wishing to let her go. At this moment he could not believe his luck. All the princesses and duchesses and diplomats and other royalty he had met over the years; no one had ever caught his interest quite like Clarisse Gerard. She had a captivating smile and a potential for greatness. All night he had tried to crack jokes to here her bubbling laughter fill the air. He adored the feminine way she tossed her head back when she laughed. He loved the fact that every woman around them had long hair except Clarisse. She was different.

"Why did you cut your hair short?" He asked, stopping them on a snow-clad sidewalk.

"It's always been that way. It's so much easier to take care of." She whispered, looking past him as he tried to look her square in the eye. "Please don't make me do this." She begged.

"Do what?"

"Fall in love with you, I can't, it's not right."

"But I'm falling in love with you." Rupert replied, taking both her hands in his.

"I'm not royal." She squeezed his hands and looked down. "I'm a peasant."

"We don't use that term anymore. It's lower class now." As he spoke, he grew closer to her, close enough for Clarisse to feel his warm breath on her lips.

"Oh, well then." She couldn't think of a reply, and instead turned her head from his kiss.

"The ear was not exactly what I was going for on the first date." He remarked, reaching up and cupping her chin, forcing her to face him.

"Don't, Rupert. You need to be with someone better then me, this isn't right. You'll regret it for the rest of your life if you marry me." She didn't notice that he had moved in close once again as she ranted, and was shocked at the feel of his lips on hers. The sensation was one she had never had before, a feeling of her blood speeding up and rocketing through her body as it warmed her from the inside out. "I. . .I've never been kissed." She whispered softly.

"I'm glad I could help." He grabbed her hand and began to walk toward the palace once again. After a long silence that made Clarisse's head spin, he spoke. "Mummy will be so happy to meet you!"

"Oh lord." She held her head with her free hand. "Rupert, I am not prepared to meet the queen!" _Oh hell, I wasn't even prepared to meet you._

"Relax, darling, she will love you."

"Oh heavens, how do you know, you've known me for two hours."

"And I already adore you." He smiled, kissing her temple. "See, she'll be happy because I am."

"I don't understand, two hours ago I was walking the street because I didn't have a home, and suddenly, I'm kissing the prince!" She paused. He grinned. "And then I think, what could he possibly see in me?"

"I see a beautiful queen, who just hasn't been discovered until now."

"Your eyes deceive you, prince Rupert, because I am neither beautiful, nor a queen."


End file.
